Chapter 2

As I slammed the door shut, I heard Ainsley's muffled sobs from inside the private room.

"Drew, did I make you two fight again?" she asked.

Andrew's voice followed right after. "It's not your fault. She's too spoiled."

I stood outside the door, hearing every word.

At that moment, I suddenly didn't feel like crying anymore.

My three-year marriage felt like a bowl of leftover soup, still warm on top, but completely spoiled underneath.

When I got home, I started packing my things.

The Humphrey family bought our wedding home. When we were decorating, Andrew said he liked a minimalist style, so I replaced the warm yellow curtains I loved with the gray ones he liked.

The painting of magnolia blossoms in the living room was something I stayed up three nights to finish.

Back then, Andrew hugged me and said, "Grace, we'll always be this good."

Now, when I saw that painting on the wall, I felt ironic.

I stuffed a few clothes into my suitcase, and as I zipped it up, the door lock clicked.

Andrew walked in, reeking of booze.

When he saw the suitcase, his face instantly darkened. "What are you up to now?"

I stuffed my driver's license and medical records into my bag. "I'm going back to my place."

"Just because of a joke?" He walked over and kicked the suitcase.

The suitcase slammed into the corner of the cabinet with a heavy thud.

I looked at the crack splitting along the edge of the suitcase, keeping my voice steady. "It's not a joke. It's about whose side you took today."

Andrew tugged at his tie. "Ainsley's parents died early, and she grew up with my family. She never really felt safe. You're my wife. Can't you be a little nicer to her?"

"I'm pregnant with your kid, and she embarrassed me in front of everyone. And you want me to take it?"

"Don't use the baby to guilt-trip me." He raised his voice. "Grace, I hate it when you act like this.

"Sure, being pregnant is tough, but you're not the only woman who's ever been through it. Other women don't get all sensitive about it like you do."

I looked at him and suddenly asked, "So, who do you think would make a better wife for you?"

Andrew was caught off guard.

I answered for him, "Ainsley?"

His face darkened. "You are being unreasonable."

"Am I?" I pulled out my phone and opened the family group chat.

Half an hour before dinner, Ryan had posted a photo of my back with the caption: [Doesn't Grace look like a plump white goose?]

Ainsley replied with a hand-over-mouth laughing emoji and sent: [Don't say that. Grace will get mad if she sees it.]

Andrew was in the group chat, too, but he didn't say a word to stop them.

He replied with a single word: [Enough.]

Not "stop it", or "delete it." Just a casual "enough." That was it.

I held my phone up to his face. "You saw it, didn't you?"

Andrew looked away from the screen. "We were messing around in the group chat. Why are you making a big deal out of it?"

"So, you knew."

"Yeah, so what? Do you expect me to fall out with everyone about something so trivial?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Of course you wouldn't. Because you were laughing right along with them."

Andrew's face twisted in anger, clearly hit where it hurt. "Grace Humphrey, are you determined to stir up trouble tonight?"

I dragged my suitcase toward the door.

He slammed his hand against the door. "If you walk out that door tonight, don't think about coming back."

"Fine," I replied.

My answer was so quick that Andrew was stunned for a second.

He stared at me like he realized I wasn't going to go along with him anymore. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What it sounds like," I shot back.

He gritted his teeth. "Don't come crying to me later. Where are you gonna end up, pregnant and on your own? That tiny studio of yours barely brings in a few dollars a month.

"Your parents' old apartment doesn't have an elevator. Grace, you can throw a fit all you want, but don't turn yourself into a joke for real."

I didn't bother to explain.

My phone buzzed in my bag. I glanced down. It was a text message. [Mrs. Humphrey, your surgery is scheduled for tomorrow at 9 AM. Please remember not to eat beforehand.]

I turned off my phone.

Andrew was still going on. "Shoot Ainsley a text and say sorry. Then I'll act like none of this ever happened tonight."

I looked up. "Andrew, let's get a divorce."

He paused for a moment, and then laughed mockingly. "Great. You think you can scare me? Divorce? Sure, let's do it. Don't come begging me when you regret it."